Old Sweet Song
by bertiebert
Summary: Matthew and Alfred decided on a picnic, but there happened to be a change of plans.


**_This fic was supposed to be the second part of "Sometimes You Feel" but it got away from me and became something so much more. I love it so much and I wanted to post it as it's own separate fanfic. So here it is, Alfred and Matthew enjoying some alone time together. Enjoy and review!_**

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><p>There was something about rain and thunderstorms that made Alfred content. The way things were always greener, calmer, and so much better after a good soaking. He could sit for hours by the bay window of his Georgia home and just watch it rain. He especially loved sitting on his porch to listen to the soft pitter-patter of the water or run out into the yard to feel the cool drops land on his skin. Nothing could match the fullness he felt inside his chest when he heard the first few drops land on his roof. There was little that made him feel as peaceful as when he sat on the steps of his porch and just listened and watched everything stand a little taller with the rain.<p>

Matthew apologized when they headed out for a picnic and the rain started up full force. But Alfred just smiled serenely and turned to his lover.

"We'll eat on the porch. It'll be a rainy day picnic," he explained, spreading out the blanket on the boards.

He and Matthew settled down quietly, neither speaking much as they organized their meal on the blanket. They munched on chicken salad sandwiches and drank sweet iced tea. Alfred fed Matthew bites of homemade peach pie, grinning when the younger man licked up a spot of the juice on his lower lip. Snacking on fresh cut vegetables and fruits, the pair stretched out on the blanket to relax. Matthew dozed, his head pillowed on Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred closed his eyes to listen to the rain. The only thing better than being around the rain had to be spending quiet, intimate time with Matthew.

Thunder rumbled, deep and ominous, in the distance. Matthew woke instantly, tensing up. Alfred curled a hand around Matthew's cheek, stroking it soothingly.

"Hush, darlin', it's just thunder. Do you want to go inside?" Alfred kissed Matthew softly on the forehead.

"No," Matthew replied, voice soft and husky with sleep. "It's nice out here."

Another few moments and thunder clapped again, louder and closer this time. Alfred shivered and rested his head back against the porch. He had hoped that it would only rain, but of course it had to turn into a thunderstorm. As each rumble and clap became louder and more frequent, Alfred had to fight to control his breathing. It didn't take long for Matthew to catch on, though. He had a clear view of Alfred's khaki shorts and could very clearly see the erection his lover was now sporting.

"Al, you could have just said that thunder…affected you like this. I wouldn't have held it against you," Matthew said, sitting up to regard his brother.

Alfred was panting gently, cheeks flushed, and shivering delightedly whenever a soft grumble came from the skies. He smiled embarrassedly, averting his stormy blue eyes. Matthew touched his jaw to turn Alfred's gaze to meet his own.

"What do you need, _chéri_?" Matthew asked adoringly, brushing his fingertips down Alfred's neck.

"Touch me," Alfred begged, spreading his legs and canting his hips.

Matthew smiled and shifted in between his brother's legs. "Of course_."_

Alfred was practically keening when the next clash of thunder sounded. The sound chased electricity up and down his thighs, making him whimper and buck against Matthew's mouth. The Canadian just soothed Alfred with soft words and caresses, settling over him and mouthing at the smaller man's throat. Despite Matthew's age, he was bigger than his brother in almost every way. The American arched into every single graze of Matthew's hand as if he was touch-starved. He tried his hardest to urge Matthew on, but the younger man was having none of it.

By the time Matthew finally eased into his lover, Alfred was whining and squirming with desire. He attempted to soothe Alfred, kissing the smaller man's cheekbones and forehead and whispering sweetly to him. Brushing his lips over the smattering of freckles on Alfred's nose and cheek—fifty of them, he'd counted multiple times—Matthew finally succeeded in calming the American.

"Move, baby, please. I need you," Alfred groaned, shifting his legs up higher. Matthew knew that when Alfred spread his legs he was incredibly aroused. So he moved to hook one of Alfred's sun-kissed knees over the crook of his elbow, opening his lover up even more.

At the first thrust, Alfred moaned obscenely and bared his neck to Matthew. Once they found their natural rhythm, Alfred was crying out with every knock against his prostate and tried desperately to pull his legs further apart whenever he heard the rumbling of thunder. Matthew panted, only very vocal when he was on the bottom, and kissed Alfred's chest reverently. He could almost hear the wild thrashing of Alfred's heart as he made love to the man who had brought out so much good in him. Alfred tangled his fingers in Matthew's hair, bringing the Canadian's lips up to his and mapping out every square inch of the wet heat.

Alfred startled Matthew when he wailed with his orgasm, but Matthew just aimed as well as he could to bring his lover the most pleasure possible. He shuddered when Alfred's hands slid down to cup his backside and pull him in closer.

"Come on, doll, come for me. Just let go," Alfred purred in his ear, pressing lazy kisses to Matthew's jaw. "Let me watch you come."

Matthew whimpered, burying his face in Alfred's shoulder, and shivered violently when he came. Alfred stroked his back, whispering to him and holding him close. He knew exactly how much trust it took to let someone see you during such a vulnerable moment and he cherished every time Matthew unabashedly allowed Alfred to see him lose control in such a way.

The thunder had died down once Matthew shakily cleaned them both up. He snuggled up against Alfred's side, listening to his lover's heartbeat slow and steady itself. A slight breeze had picked up, blowing rain drops on their heated, naked bodies, but neither truly minded. The wind chimes tinkled with the rain and wind, soothing both men into a slight daze.

"I think we need to have rainy day picnics more often," Matthew murmured, curling his fingers around Alfred's sharp hipbone.

Where Alfred was all angles and bones, Matthew held a bit of softness and curves. Alfred found his lover delectable in every way, laving his tongue across padded hips and a soft belly. Matthew loved to nip sharp joints and press kisses to the strong muscles in Alfred's legs. He loved those _thighs_ like nothing else.

"And," Matthew continued, wetting his lips. "I think we need to always have sex during a thunderstorm because that was some of the best sex I've ever had."

Alfred laughed and kissed Matthew firmly. "I agree, sweetheart."

After a moment of silence, just the soft rain making the wind chimes tinkle sweetly, Alfred spoke again.

"I love you more than life itself, Matt. I hope you know that," he murmured, long fingers spreading out over Matthew's waist.

Smiling delightedly, Matthew pressed himself closer to Alfred. "I do know that, but I love hearing it. I love you, too, Alfred."

The American's answering smile made Matthew's stomach flutter and he couldn't even bring himself to be irked that the wind was blowing the rain on them. He finally understood Alfred's affinity for the rain and the way it made everything look so much greener and feel so peaceful. As long as he had Alfred by his side, Matthew knew he would never see rain the same again.


End file.
